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Harrymort
(Harry/Voldemort)
A snake named Voldemort
Voldemort spat out an angry hiss and stood to his full height. :I said I can't change back, now are you satisfied?:
Harry didn't respond. He was too busy gaping at the Dark Lord who, apparently, was stuck as a six foot snake and, Harry twitched, the only one who could understand him and therefore help him was his mortal enemy.
He couldn't help it; he snorted. And then he chuckled, which slowly morphed into tickled laughing and then loud guffaws. Harry fell backwards again before rolling around in the grass, tears streaming down his cheeks as he laughed at the Dark Lord's plight. He couldn't remember laughing this hard in his entire life. Soon his sides hurt and his breath came in short, agonized gasps, and yet he could not stop. The whole time a slew of hissed curses and vile retorts flew from Voldemort's poisonous mouth, but they were lost on the wind and in the sounds of Harry's amusement.
Finally, after several minutes, Harry's merriment trickled down into quiet giggles. He wiped the tears off his face with his sleeve and sat up into a kneeling postion. Voldemort had flattened himself into the grass and was watching him with a murderous expression. Ah well, it was a well-known fact that, if one wasn't a Basilisk, then looks couldn't kill no matter how much a Dark Lord may wish they could. Harry would have been dead a long time ago if that was the case.
:Are you done yet?: Voldemort spat, obviously disgusted by the display he'd just witnessed.
Harry, still grinning widely, nodded. Venom pooled in Voldemort's mouth.
:Tell me, my dear Dark Lord, is there something I can do for you?:
Voldemort spat out an angry hiss and stood to his full height. :I said I can't change back, now are you satisfied?:
Harry didn't respond. He was too busy gaping at the Dark Lord who, apparently, was stuck as a six foot snake and, Harry twitched, the only one who could understand him and therefore help him was his mortal enemy.
He couldn't help it; he snorted. And then he chuckled, which slowly morphed into tickled laughing and then loud guffaws. Harry fell backwards again before rolling around in the grass, tears streaming down his cheeks as he laughed at the Dark Lord's plight. He couldn't remember laughing this hard in his entire life. Soon his sides hurt and his breath came in short, agonized gasps, and yet he could not stop. The whole time a slew of hissed curses and vile retorts flew from Voldemort's poisonous mouth, but they were lost on the wind and in the sounds of Harry's amusement.
Finally, after several minutes, Harry's merriment trickled down into quiet giggles. He wiped the tears off his face with his sleeve and sat up into a kneeling postion. Voldemort had flattened himself into the grass and was watching him with a murderous expression. Ah well, it was a well-known fact that, if one wasn't a Basilisk, then looks couldn't kill no matter how much a Dark Lord may wish they could. Harry would have been dead a long time ago if that was the case.
:Are you done yet?: Voldemort spat, obviously disgusted by the display he'd just witnessed.
Harry, still grinning widely, nodded. Venom pooled in Voldemort's mouth.
:Tell me, my dear Dark Lord, is there something I can do for you?:
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